Day 5 and Still Alive

Somebody at some point will inevitably say to me that having this surgery was the "easy way out".  My sincere hope is that I don't punch them in the face.  I've been at the clear liquid diet since first-thing Tuesday morning.  It's been humbling -- humbling because of how hard this has been, humbling because I know the process will inevitably get harder.  I chose this path with my eyes wide open, fully aware that this wasn't a two-week or six-week commitment, but one that will forever change my life.  And quite honestly, I pray it does.  In my vocational role I have been privileged to counsel countless folks prior to their elective surgeries, and despite myriad differences, one thing remains common to most all of us:  we opt for surgery when the negative aspects of the operation pale with the status quo.  I am no different.

Truth be told, I've wondered why the two weeks of liquid diet beforehand.  Sure, the paperwork and the nurses and the doctor all say the same thing, that the pre-surgical diet is to minimize surgical risk.  I suppose that makes sense:  the heavier one is the greater the surgical risk, generally.  Also, the no-fat diet causes the body to rely upon the fat stored in the liver thereby making the liver smaller at time of surgery.  But there's also a part of me that wonders if at least some of the reason for the liquid diet isn't somehow psychological -- make it these two weeks, big guy, and you can surely make it the rest of the way.

So, this is day five of fourteen days of living only on a clear liquid diet and liquid protein supplements.  They say to maintain energy and health I must have at least 80mg of protein a day.  So far I've been able to keep at that threshold.  I get most of my protein from a pre-made drink that GNC sells called Isopure, along with usually one shake I blend a day from powdered whey protein isolate and skim milk.  I've also found low-carb SlimFast and sugar-free Carnation Instant Breakfast to be decent (although much more expensive than their standard, forbidden versions).  Additionally, I eat a fair bit of sugar-free jello and chicken broth.  My greatest luxury includes no-sugar-added fudge bars.  Our kids are helping me eat the fudge bars but flatly refuse to get within five feet of the chicken broth for fear that I'll try and feed it to them.

I think I learned what they mean by "water weight".  The first day I lost seven pounds, and have lost about a pound each day since.  I suppose I could forgo the surgery at that rate and just opt for the liquid diet for the rest of my life, but then I'm sure I really would end up punching someone in the face.

The Last Supper

The real fun begins tomorrow.  The liquid diet begins.  As the funny pharmacy tech engaged me about all this craziness, I had to tell her unfortunately that doesn't mean milkshakes.  She told me she was horrified for me, but she was good to suggest that tequila is a clear liquid!

In truth, it's a high protein liquid diet that I'm to follow for these two weeks prior to surgery.  No carbonated beverages and nothing with more than 20g total carbohydrates.  And no food whatsoever.  I spent an hour or so recently at GNC buying Isopure protein drinks and whey protein powder for mixing in milk.  I went to the store and bought a variety of boxes of jello and a bunch of sugar-free popsicles and fudge pops.  I also found some Muscle Milk light and low-carb SlimFast (I'm guessing regular SlimFast is creme broulee compared to the low-carb stuff!). And I have sugar-free Carnation Instant Breakfast that I'm to mix with skim milk fortified with powdered milk.  I'm to do all this because apparently the weight loss caused by the liquid diet lowers surgical risk.  I've taken inventory and I'm as ready as I'll ever be.

And so, tonight was the proverbial "last supper".  Fittingly, it was a normal night around here.  We cooked a flank steak over the weekend and tonight enjoyed the leftovers alongside baked potatoes and a nice salad.  I cannot confirm that there might have been a carbonated "grown-up drink" alongside.  Much later this evening, a bit of our favorite holiday peppermint ice cream was the last thing I ate, alongside the last diet root beer in the fridge.

Of course, what I ate tonight I'll eventually get to eat again, though I'm sure only a fraction next time.  Slowly I'll get to reintroduce food in the weeks post-surgery.  But drinking will forever be different.  Nothing carbonated, ever.  I'll be able to drink tea and coffee again in weeks ahead, but no longer with a straw, and not within 30 minutes either side of eating food.  Inasmuch as there was nothing out of the norm about the night, the present and the future couldn't feel any further apart to me -- and tomorrow is the next big step into this wild, new beginning.  I don't expect these next two weeks to be a piece of cake (no pun intended).  But not to put too fine a point on it, darkness comes after the last supper.  And while I don't yet know the whole story, I know the One who does.